


Unravel in Each Other's Arms

by brazenlyunabashedlyshamelessly



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: M/M, Sexy Times, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-22
Updated: 2014-07-22
Packaged: 2018-02-09 22:58:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,678
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2001204
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brazenlyunabashedlyshamelessly/pseuds/brazenlyunabashedlyshamelessly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is set in episode 4x08. It takes place just after Mickey gets rid of the creepy guy trying to grope Ian, but before they head to that fancy dude's apartment.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Unravel in Each Other's Arms

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first attempt at smut, so any feedback would be hugely appreciated. I would really, really love to hear from you guys.

Mickey watched the tubby fucker scurry away, he dick deflating between his legs. There wasn’t enough time in the fucking day for Mickey to describe how much he hated this goddamn place. It wasn’t just the easy, open way everyone was just so... gay, as if there was nothing wrong and they had nothing to be afraid of, that made Mickey uncomfortable. It was the way greedy eyes trailed over Ian; how hands sometimes reached out to touch, like Ian was something they could just put their hands on.

Mickey tried to take a few deep breaths, to calm down. Ian would be pissed if Mickey caused a scene. Again. He was just beginning to make some headway on the whole calm thing when he felt Ian come to stand next to him. That made him breathe a little easier. That is, until Ian opened his mouth.

“We got invited to a loft party by one of my regulars”, Ian told him.

Aaaaaaaand queue the teeth grinding. That was just great, more fucking queers for Mickey to have to keep an eye on. 

“It’s fun. What’s wrong with fun?” Ian asked, sounding slightly exasperated. 

Fun? Mickey thought incredulously. He didn’t look at Ian, just gestured in the direction the horny fucking teletubbie had gone. “Nothin’, not unless it involves some fat faggot tryin’ to shove his hand down your—”

Mickey was cut off mid-tirade by Ian leaning down to kiss him.

He jerked back from Ian instinctively. He looked around wildly, wondering what the fuck Ian thought he was doing. 

When Mickey’s eyes finally settled on Ian again, the exasperation was back on the other boy’s face along with a hint of affection. He flicked his eyes past Mickey, as though reminding Mickey where they were. Mickey drew in a shaky breath and looked around again more slowly. The place was full of men touching, kissing, dancing together. There was no shame. 

Mickey was torn. He didn’t do public displays of affection, and he hated this fucking place. He wanted to kiss Ian, but not here. On the other hand, how many times had he pushed Ian away? How many times had Ian put himself out there, only for Mickey to leave him hanging?

Mickey looked at Ian again and made a snap decision. He reached out for the other boy, pulling Ian’s head down to meet his lips. 

Mickey remembered Mandy talking about Lip, how she said that when he kissed her the whole world just seemed to slow down. He remembered thinking that it sounded like a bunch of girly bullshit. But now he saw what she meant.

The kiss was slow. He could distantly hear the music in the background, see the lights flashing through his eyelids. But none of that mattered. All he felt was Ian. Ian’s one hand in his hair, the other around Mickey’s waist to hold him close. Ian bit down on Mickey’s bottom lip and tugged gently, encouraging Mickey to open for him. The second he did, Ian’s tongue was there, sweeping inside Mickey’s mouth. It felt like they stayed like that for a long time— hours, days, maybe even years. When Ian finally pulled away, he and Mickey were both out of breath.

“C’mon,” Ian said, taking Mickey by the hand. It was as though Ian were afraid that if he let Mickey go, even for a second, Mickey would just disappear. Mickey felt a slight pang at that. He wished that there was some way he could let Ian know that Mickey wouldn’t leave him again.

They ended up in what looked like the staff’s changing room. The place was deserted, with the employees of Fairy Tale dancing, tending the bar, or... providing any other services the patrons might require. 

Ian dragged Mickey towards the back of the room, where there was a row of shower stalls. Heading to the one right at the back, Ian jerked the shower curtain aside and entered, pulling Mickey along with him. Once the curtain was yanked back into place, effectively hiding them from the outside world, Ian turned to Mickey with a heated look that made Mickey hard.

Ian shoved Mickey against the wall of the shower, and took Mickey’s face in his hands. The kiss before had been... not sweet, but more patient. This kiss was anything but. It felt like Ian was trying to inhale him. Their dicks were grinding together; Mickey could feel Ian’s hardness through those stupid gold shorts and his jeans. The intensity of this contact made Mickey’s head swim. Mickey hated their clothes; hated the fact that they couldn’t be alone somewhere, anywhere that wasn’t this stupid fucking club. 

Mickey was so lost in his need that when Ian pulled away, he couldn’t help but whimper. Why was Ian stopping? Mickey needed Ian to be touching him. Now.

“Wait here,” Ian rasped in Mickey’s ear. He pushed Mickey gently back against the tiles of the shower wall to emphasise his point. Ian stepped back unsteadily before quickly jerking the shower curtain aside and disappearing.

Mickey once again found himself doing the deep breath thing to calm himself down. It didn’t seem to be working. After a handful of minutes that felt like a lifetime, Ian was back with a bottle of lube in his hands. Mickey wanted to protest. He didn’t want to fuck here, in this place, but he couldn’t get his mouth to work properly. And when Ian dropped to his knees and began to unbutton Mickey’s jeans, any thoughts he may have had dried up.

Mickey sucked in a harsh breath when he felt Ian rubbing his face against Mickey’s straining dick through his boxers. Ian was kissing him through the fabric, and Mickey thought that there was a good fucking chance that he might just lose it and cum in his pants. He thrust his hips helplessly, desperate for Ian to tug away the constricting fabric and take Mickey into his mouth. 

Ian teased Mickey for a moment longer, moving away from his cock and trailing kisses up Mickey’s stomach. He paused there for a bit, swirling his tongue around Mickey’s navel. The older boy swore.

“Jesus fucking Christ, Ian. Would you just hurry the fuck up?”

He didn’t know if it was his impatience that moved the redhead to take pity on him, or if it was his use of Ian’s name. All Mickey knew was that in the space of a heartbeat, Ian had tugged Mickey’s boxers down and was kissing the head of his cock. 

Mickey jerked convulsively, threading his hands through Ian’s hair. Ian slowly licked up the length of Mickey’s cock before flicking his tongue across the sensitive tip, tasting the pre-cum beading there. Then Ian slid his tongue up the other side of Mickey’s cock, once again flicking it against the head. Before Mickey could start swearing or, God forbid, begging, Ian swirled his tongue around the inside of Mickey’s foreskin. 

Mickey made a high-pitched keening sound. 

He felt Ian’s breath gust against his sensitive skin as the redhead exhaled a laugh. Then, without any warning, Ian opened his mouth and took Mickey in deep, all the way to the back of his throat. Ian swallowed around the head of Mickey’s cock, and Mickey wouldn’t have been surprised to find that his brain was leaking out his ears. He was panting, trying to ignore the tingling in his spine, the tightening of his balls. Jesus Christ. Mickey dug his nails into his palms in a desperate attempt to centre himself. 

It didn’t help. He was close, so close. He was thrusting his hips helplessly, fucking Ian’s mouth with increasing vigour, until Ian pulled away. Even worse, he exerted a tight grip around the base of Mickey’s cock, stopping him from cumming.

Mickey gave Ian a betrayed look. His knees felt like jelly, and his head was spinning, and the cruel fucker had worked him up only to keep him from going over the edge.

Ian smiled at him, and Mickey felt his frustration drain away. It wasn’t that smirk that he’d become used to seeing, the one that belonged to some familiar stranger. Looking up at him was Ian, his Ian, the one who’d left him all those months ago. 

The one Mickey would do anything for.

“Don’t cum yet, okay?” Ian told him. He pulled away and uncapped the bottle of lube sitting in the corner of the shower.

Mickey nodded his head, willing to do anything the other boy asked of him. He stared straight ahead, trying to control his breathing. He started when he felt a finger circling his hole. His forced himself to relax, and spread his legs to give Ian more room. He was so acutely aware of Ian’s hands, one on the verge of breaching him, the other with a bruising grip on his hip.

Ian didn’t take Mickey’s silent invitation. Instead, he kept his finger at Mickey’s entrance, rubbing teasingly but never pushing in. Ian bent his head and sucked on one of Mickey’s balls. He laved it with his tongue before moving on to the other. He kept this up until Mickey was rocking his hips: forwards, into Ian’s mouth, and backwards, onto Ian’s finger. 

Again, Ian took Mickey by surprise, thrusting that teasing finger all the way inside of Mickey on one of his backward thrusts. Mickey moaned. He felt stretched, but he needed more. So he asked for it.

“Ian,” he panted. “Please... more.”

For a second he thought Ian was going to ignore him. They usually fucked fast and hard, but when Ian took it into his head to tease, he was merciless. 

So when Mickey felt Ian sliding a second finger into his hole, he let out a long moan of satisfaction. With seemingly little effort, Ian found that spot inside him. The one that— combined with the stretched, burning feeling—made Mickey feel like he was flying. He pushed his hips back into Ian’s hand, fucking himself on the redhead’s fingers. He felt Ian’s hand on his cock, spreading the pre-cum over the sensitive head. When he felt Ian’s hot breath on him, he nearly lost it. 

“Ian... I’m—I’m gonna...” Mickey panted weakly. 

Once again Ian stopped. He withdrew his fingers from Mickey’s ass, while Mickey let out a little whining sound. He stopped when he saw that Ian was getting up, pushing his shorts down to the floor, and lubing up his cock. 

Mickey felt a fluttering in his stomach. Ian was going to fuck him now. There’d be no more teasing, just the kind of rough sex that was going to make him scream. 

Mickey stared greedily at Ian’s cock and reached out to touch him. Ian batted his hand away.

“I won’t last if you touch me,” he murmured softly. 

Despite the clawing need inside him, Mickey smiled at that. He made to turn around when Ian stopped him. 

The redhead gripped his arm and told him, “I want to see your face when you cum”.

That damn near did Mickey in. He nodded wordlessly as he faced the other boy. 

“Wrap your legs around me,” Ian whispered.

It took some manoeuvring, but Mickey was finally gripping Ian tight. He had his arms around Ian’s shoulders and his legs around the other boy’s waist. He felt the head of Ian’s cock at his entrance and he shuddered. Without any preamble, Ian shoved himself inside.

Mickey let out a harsh yell. He bit down hard on Ian’s shoulder to muffle any further sounds; they did not need some fucker walking in on them. 

Mickey was overwhelmed with sensation. He could feel the cold tiles of the shower behind his back, could feel Ian’s cock stretching him, nudging against that place. He could hear their panting breaths; taste the salt of Ian’s skin. Fuck, Mickey thought. He could cum just like this; Ian didn’t have to do anything but stay inside him. But Ian had no intention of staying still.

Ian fucked Mickey with long, smooth strokes. He knew what this pace did to Mickey, knew that it made the older boy writhe on his cock, made him beg. He kept the pace steady, knowing that it wouldn’t be long before Mickey started to get demanding. Mickey didn’t disappoint. He dug his heels into Ian’s ass, urging him to go faster. Ian just kept that same pace but changed his angle slightly so that he was brushing against Mickey’s prostate with every thrust.

That did the trick. Mickey began whimpering and moaning, thrusting his hips to the rhythm that Ian had set.

“Jesus, Ian... please. F-fuck, I need... I need more. Faster, please...”

Mickey felt like he was dying. The need was agonising, and yet he wanted more of it. He wanted to cum, was desperate for the release, but he wanted this to last just a little longer. He grabbed Ian’s hair and tugged his face closer until their lips met. They kissed frantically while Ian kept that same unhurried pace. 

The finally broke apart. Mickey rested his forehead against Ian’s before inhaling shakily. He pulled back to look into those big, brown eyes and whispered, “Please, Ian.”

With that, Ian’s control seemed to snap. He shoved Mickey back against the wall as he began pounding into him. It was fast, and hard, and dirty... Mickey loved it. With each thrust, Ian rubbed against his prostate. Mickey’s cock was leaking pre-cum; he felt like even the slightest brush against it would send him spiralling into orgasm. But Ian didn’t touch him, and Mickey was clinging to Ian’s shoulders and he didn’t want to let go. Instead, Ian had a tight grip on Mickey hips; there’d probably be bruises in the morning. Mickey shuddered at the thought. He dug his fingernails into Ian’s back and sank his teeth into that spot between the redhead’s neck and shoulder. Mickey knew that he’d likely leave marks on Ian’s fair skin too, and the idea just turned him on more. Let these fuckers at the club know that Ian belonged to somebody, that he wasn’t available for them to run their hands all over whenever they felt like it.

And then, in the midst of their mindless fucking, Mickey felt Ian’s lips at the edge of his jaw. Ian didn’t bite or suck or lick... instead he placed a gentle kiss there. And then, Mickey didn’t need a hand on his cock, didn’t need any more pressure against his prostate. He came with a hoarse shout, cum spurting out of him and shooting up to land on their chests. He moaned and writhed against Ian, beyond caring if anyone heard them or not. 

His ass clenched around Ian’s cock, and he felt the other boy stiffen. He did it again, wanting Ian to cum. He needed to feel Ian releasing inside him, filling him up. At last, Ian let go. He came with a grunt, still thrusting himself inside Mickey. The dark haired boy held on to his lover, feeling the shudders that were racking through Ian’s lean body. They clutched at one another until finally; they began to come down from the impossible high. 

Ian pulled out of Mickey slowly, and Mickey loosened his death grip on Ian and let his feet touch the floor. They were both unsteady, and they leaned against one another for support. Mickey could feel Ian’s cum dripping down his thigh, and another shiver went through him. He loved this. He loved... he stopped the thought dead in its tracks.

Ian leaned down and brushed his lips softly over Mickey’s. They’d never kissed like this. This was soft, gentle, patient and caring. Mickey tried not to think about what it meant.

Then the moment was gone, and Ian was smiling. It wasn’t that familiar stranger’s grin, but it wasn’t Ian’s smile either.

“So,” he said cheerily, “you ready to party?”

Mickey stared at Ian for a moment before nodding silently. By now, he’d follow this boy anywhere.


End file.
